


In Which The Newlyweds Quarrel On Their Wedding Night

by DuchessofGrandeour



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: But It's Mentioned Several Times, Comfort/Angst, Companionable Snark, Couples Who Quarrel, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Love, Loving Marriage, Magic Gone Wrong, Married Couple, Not Ready For Sex, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Snark, Sweet, They Don't Have Sex In This One, new marriage, newlyweds, understanding spouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessofGrandeour/pseuds/DuchessofGrandeour
Summary: After defeating the Witch of the Waste and Miss Angorian, Sophie and Howl couldn't help but get married. Now that the excitement of dead witches and broken curses has calmed, Sophie realizes that she isn't quite ready for all that being a wife entails. She deals with it in the typical Sophie way: by railing against Howl.





	In Which The Newlyweds Quarrel On Their Wedding Night

It all happened so fast.

The death of Miss Angorian, the broken curses, the excitement, the promises of happily ever after, the wedding.

The wedding.

Sophie was still a bit shocked that Prince Justin married them right then and there, in the middle of the tiny castle with her whole family present and none of Howl’s. But that was just as Howl wanted it anyway. The whole thing seemed so slapdash and unofficial, just like Howl. And perhaps a bit impulsive, just like Sophie.

Regardless, it was all very real and very, very official and now, just a few hours after sharing their first kiss, Sophie was standing in Howl’s room quite unsure of what to do while he primped and showered downstairs. She had her only two nightgowns spread out on the bed, unable to decide which one to wear for her first night as a wife.

She inspected then both with a frown. If she’d had a bit more time she could have gone and got something nicer, maybe with frills or lace. Although she wasn’t certain it mattered. The thought of Howl seeing her in just a nightgown made Sophie feel equal parts excited and queasy.

It was all happening so fast.

At least she could try to make her favorite nightgown a little nicer.

“Go on,” she said to the pink one, her voice quavering with uncertainty. “I ought to look special on my wedding night. If you could make yourself a little more fine that would be lovely.”

The pink fabric fluttered in protest.

“Don’t be cross about it,” Sophie folded her arms. “You’re lovely and have suited me well but you’re also well worn. Howl has been with so many girls and is so particular about clothes, if I want to compete I need to wear something that will take his breath away.”

This time the fabric didn’t move at all. It simply stayed where it was, laid out on the bed.

“Well be that way about it,” Sophie huffed as she folded it up.

She looked around realizing she didn’t quite know where to store her belongings. Everything in the room belonged to Howl. She opened a few drawers in his bureau until she found one that wasn’t completely overflowing with clothes.

“This will certainly have to change,” Sophie muttered as she crammed the nightgown to the bottom of the pile, afraid it would grow even more indignant and try to escape. She grabbed a heavy little statue, a round thing that didn’t look too magical, and placed it on top of the pile, just in case.

“You can stay just as you are,” she solemnly told the gown with yellow flowers, sensing its anticipation. “It is a bit of relief. I'm not certain I want that tonight anyway. Perhaps he won’t want it either when he sees how unremarkably dressed I am.”

Halfway through unbuttoning her dress a thought gave Sophie pause. With a hand clutching the plaquette shut, she stared at the door, expecting Howl to come flouncing in and catch her half-undressed. Which wouldn't be the worst thing, she supposed. But it was all happening so fast.

Sophie tiptoed to the door, pretending that she didn't feel foolish about creeping around her husband's room. She cracked the door open and looked out in the hall.

It took a bit of craning her neck and straining to listen, but Sophie finally heard the gentle patter of the shower running. So she definitely had more time. Sophie could probably fall asleep and wake up the next morning and Howl would still be in that bathroom working on his face and hair.

As she retreated into the room and slowly pushed the door shut, a knot of tension unwound from around her heart. She had a vague notion that she shouldn't feel relief at the prospect of her husband _not_ seeing her naked on their wedding night but that was how things were. She tried not to think too deeply about it.

Even with Howl safely occupied downstairs, Sophie changed her clothes quicker than she ever had.

She folded her day clothes, making sure her undergarments were hidden away safely inside of her folded dress where Howl couldn't see them. Best not to give him ideas. She rested the bundle on the armchair in the corner.

Sophie despaired when she caught a glimpse of herself in one of Howl's full length mirrors. She never noticed how such a formless gown could show off her figure so clearly. It certainly hadn't been an issue when she was a bent, old woman. But being young and fresh again…

Furiously blushing through her frown, Sophie pulled at the fabric trying to make it tent out and hide herself.

“To be old again,” she muttered, fussing with the fabric. “I didn't have these problems then.”

When it became evident that she couldn't hide her figure completely, Sophie eyed up her dressing gown. But the prospect of wearing that to sleep felt a bit too ridiculous. Instead, she crawled into bed, hoping she'd picked the correct side to sleep on (though knowing Howl, he likely took up the whole mattress). Sophie delicately pulled the satin bed sheets up to her chin.

“Of course they're satin,” she grumbled while secretly enjoying the feel of the smooth fabric against her legs.

But she fell into another sort of despair when she realized that the fabric clung to her body in a way that was almost sultry.

“He did this to me on purpose!” Sophie exclaimed, feeling the flush of anger on her cheeks. “Damn that letch.”

Fed up, she snatched the old, patchwork quilt from the foot of the bed and yanked it up over herself.

Very soon she found herself sweltering, all covered up in the summer heat. But at least she wouldn't give Howl any ideas. Although she was quite certain he had a concrete agenda for the evening. Even though he loved her, he was still a womanizer. And people don't change so easily.

Did he love her? She couldn't remember him ever saying so. He just promised her a happily ever after and then they were wed. It seemed implicit at the time, Howl's love. But now in the aftermath of their rash decisions Sophie wasn't certain. Well, she certainly would not give in to him if he didn't love her. Sophie felt firm on that point.

Just as she wound up her internal debate about whether or not to pretend to be asleep, Howl came flouncing through the door as if he hadn't put Sophie through so much agony. This only fueled her fury.

“Hello, darling,” he said in a singsong way.

Howl had shaved and bespelled his face so he appeared smooth and beautiful again, rather than harsh and bedraggled. He certainly had seduction on his mind then.

Sophie only grumbled at him, pulling the quilt closer to her chin.

Howl's light demeanor faltered.

“It's rather hot for that quilt, don't you think?”

Sophie mentally reared back to argue with him but her words caught in her throat. Instead she watched on in horror as Howl shucked his jacket and shirt, tossing them carelessly to the floor. Howl was long and lean and muscular and it was the first time Sophie had seen his naked torso. As if to drive the point home he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his chest and side rippling under his skin.

Sophie furiously blushed, feeling a wet heat between her legs. Howl was as beautiful as a statue and he was here before her bending down to peel off his—

Oh no.

He really was trying to seduce her. Without ever even telling her he loved her.

Sophie wanted to cry. She began to think she'd made a horrible mistake in marrying such a wicked man. Everyone had been so caught up in the fervor of the afternoon it just made sense at the time. Killing demons and breaking curses really makes a person act rashly.

“You just think you're so handsome,” Sophie blurted out, a biting edge in her voice.

Howl paused, pants down to his knees, and turned to Sophie, his beautiful smile straining against complete befuddlement.

“Don't you?”

Sophie blinked at Howl several times. She let out a frustrated “argh!” And rolled over to face the wall. She clutched at the quilt even harder.

Sophie felt the shift of the mattress under Howl's weight as he sat on the edge of the bed. She kept her angry stare fixated on a particular smudge on the wall, just underneath the window. It looked like a little black stormcloud.

“Have I done something wrong? I can’t fathom what it could be in such a short time but I know you’re determined enough to find a way,” Howl said with a casual joviality. “Or perhaps marriage doesn’t suit you?”

Sophie snorted, tracing the outside of the stormcloud smudge with her eyes.

“Sophie dear, please, I don’t like guessing games. Tell me what's on your mind. At least until I'm more fluent in your grunts and groans.”

“The nerve on you!”

“I think you've forgotten who started this fight, darling.”

Sophie whipped herself round and sat up to rail against her new husband. She darted her eyes around, trying to avoid looking at his muscular thighs and his smooth chest. And she certainly wasn't going to look at his strange, tight knickers.

“As if you weren't the instigator!” She cried, settling her furious stare on his face. He was beautiful, almost ethereal, but she would have to let her anger keep her from falling victim to his charm.

“Instigator!” Howl moaned, flopping down onto the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “All I did was greet my new bride. Sophie, do you really hate me so?”

Sophie snorted again.

“You think so much of yourself you can't even see what a boar you're being.” After a beat she tossed the other half of the sheet toward him.

“And cover yourself,” she continued. “It's shameful the way you're flaunting yourself about.”

Howl turned to look at her with incredulity painted across his face. He propped himself up on one elbow. “It's hot as blazes. I think I've a right to be comfortable in my own room.”

“There you go again, thinking only of yourself,” Sophie flopped back down and turned to the wall, focusing on her stormcloud.

“It's my room too,” she mumbled. “I should be comfortable as well.”

She flinched as Howl's hand spread out over her shoulder. He quickly withdrew it. She was certain she heard the rustling of Howl crossing his arms.

“The room's clean, isn't it? What more do you want from me, Mrs. Busybody? Would it be better if I left? Slept under the stairs like a servant?”

“You thought it good enough for an old woman. I'm sure you'll manage.”

“She would see me ejected from my own room,” Howl lamented to the air. “Would you prefer I leave the castle as well?”

“At the moment…”

“Fine. Maybe I _should_ sleep downstairs then, if that’s how you really feel,” Howl complained.

Sophie almost felt guilty which made her double down on her anger. He could sleep down there for the rest of his life for all she cared.

The mattress shifted when Howl stepped out of bed. He stalked across the room and aggressively pulled open his bureau drawers.

“Sophie, what's this?” He asked, interrupting his own grumbling.

Sophie turned just in time to see her pink nightgown fling itself up from the drawer headed straight for Howl's face. He dropped the little round statue that was in his hand; it hit the floor with a  _clang._

“What in the—” Sophie began but was interrupted by Howl's muffled screams.

Clawing at the dress, he stumbled backwards and tripped over his clothes on the floor, landing on his rear with a hard _thump._

Panicked, Sophie flung the covers to the ground and dashed out of bed. She rushed to her husband, and dropped to her knees, straddling over his legs.

“You stop that!” She screamed at the nightgown as she pried it away. “You took me too literally! Be docile like a normal nightgown and stop trying to kill my husband! Go on!”

The fabric went limp in Sophie’s hands. They both sat there panting, staring at the pink fabric.

“Thank you,” howl finally said when he’d regained his breath, placing a hand on her hip. “Though if you wanted to kill me, I wish you’d be more subtle about it. But I suppose I should know better than to expect subtlety from you.”

Sophie slowly turned her head up to meet How’s gaze. The fool was actually _smiling_ at her. Then she realized the position she was in, how close together they were, how his fingers grazed back and forth across her hip. Her whole face went hot and she was certain she’d turned bright red. With a grunt she chucked the nightgown back at Howl’s face and stalked over to her pile of clothes on the armchair. She aggressively pulled the dressing gown over her. This wasn’t going to work out. It would be better to sleep downstairs until she found somewhere to go. Maybe Wizard Suliman would take her in as well. It might be fun to learn magic alongside Lettie.  

“Sophie dear,” Howl said, still sprawled on the floor. “Are you really so cold you need more layers? Perhaps you’re ill.”

“I’m sleeping downstairs,” she snapped.

“It’s not quite how I pictured our wedding night, but I can't stop you if you insist,” Howl said, hoisting himself from the floor. “Before you go will you alert me to any more booby traps you’ve set? Now that I’m wholly myself again I’d like to live a bit longer to enjoy it.”

Sophie bit her lip and looked away. Damn him.

“I haven’t trapped your room. And I know exactly how you wanted to spend this evening,” she accused, clutching her dressing gown closed over her chest.

“Oh? Please, educate me then,” Howl said, holding his hands to his hips as if he didn’t even care how exposed he was to her.

“Don't pretend you weren't going to come up here and have your way with me, you wicked thing!” Sophie hoped that yelling would hide the tremble in her voice.

“Well that's quite a way to put it!” Howl cried, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation. “Like I'm some heartless thing.”

“You were, until a few hours ago! What am I to think?”

“Will you hold that over my head for the rest of my life?" His voice raised with hers. “Even without a heart I still managed to fall in love with you, didn’t I?”

Sophie dropped her hands to her side.

“You- you love me?” She asked, almost whispering.

“I married you, didn't I?” Howl looked incredulous that Sophie didn’t realize.

“I thought- I thought you just wanted to keep things as they were. To keep me cleaning and cooking. And to get me into bed.” Sophie said, climbing into her end of the bed, sitting on her knees.

“That's garbage and you know it,” Howl gruffed, mirroring Sophie’s movements. “I never wanted you cleaning in here.”

“And your bed?” Sophie asked, staring down at her knees.

Howl scooted deeper into the bed to take Sophie's hand. She didn't pull away. He brushed his thumb against her knuckles. It was warm and soft and made her heart beat a little faster.

“I'm not going to pretend I don't want to sleep with you.” His voice was gentle and low.

“As another conquest,” Sophie muttered.

“As my wife,” Howl said sternly. He reached out and tilted her chin up to face him. “Because you're beautiful and you're smart and so, so strong. And because, for reasons I don't fully understand, I love you, Sophie.”

Howl stroked his finger across her cheek then let his hand fall to rest on her shoulder. His eyes were earnest and glistening but Sophie saw the strain of anxiety around the corners of his face.

“I suppose I love you too, though I can't fathom why,” Sophie said with a bit of a laugh.

Howl laughed as well. He leaned forward and kissed Sophie oh so softly on her forehead. Sophie closed her eyes and hummed, feeling warmth from her heart radiating through her body.

“I suppose,” she said and hesitated, fiddling with the silver and gold rings on Howl's fingers. She took a breath and tried again. “I suppose it wouldn't be so bad. Sleeping with you.”

Howl's smile fell.

“Not tonight,” he whispered somberly.

“But you want to—”

“I want to have sex _with_ you not at you. If you don't want to do it then it's not- I'm not that type of person.”

“I do want to,” Sophie blurted out and then blushed, embarrassed. She looked down at their hands. “But everything has happened so fast. I need more time.”

Howl rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder in a reassuring way.

“How about tonight we just sleep. We can figure it out from there.”

Sophie squeezed Howl's hand and nodded, a small smile forming on her lips.

Howl leaned forward and kissed her forehead once more, whispering his love into her skin. Then they both settled into bed, Sophie without the extra layer of her dressing gown. They pulled the smooth, satin sheet over themselves and settled in, facing each other.

“Howl,” Sophie whispered in the quiet dark.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you hold my hand?”

“Always.”

Howl reached out and covered Sophie’s hand in his. And soon they fell asleep, bathed in the the peace and warmth and love of their first night as husband and wife.


End file.
